MacGowan's Ghost

by Cindy Miles

  “American,” she whispered, and wiggled her brows.

  Willy laughed, shook his head, and pulled on his cap. “So it is, then. Good day to you, Allie.”

  She watched him go through Odin’s front door, the last patron to leave. The ghostly souls had dispersed, going their own way and doing whatever it was they did when not in the presence of mortals. Even Dauber left with Captain Catesby, off to see something at the wharf.

  “I canna believe you have that old grouch eatin’ out of your hand in just three days,” Gabe said, suddenly behind her.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder and grinned. “I had him eating out of my hand the first day, sport.” She grabbed a tub from beneath the bar and started loading up the dirty dishes from the tables. Gabe followed suit.

  And every time Allie would look up, she’d catch Gabe watching her. Together they loaded all the dishes in silence, but the glances were still there. Finally, Allie set a bowl in the tub, tossed in the silver-ware, and met his gaze. “What?”

  He looked away. “Nothin’.”

  Gabe grabbed the heavy tub and headed to the kitchen. Allie followed. “So, where do they go?”

  Gabe set the tub next to the sink. “Away.”

  Good Lord, getting information out of Gabe MacGowan was like pulling teeth. “Away where?”

  He began to load the dishes. “I dunno. They visit others, go to places from their life before.” He shrugged. “For the most part, the Odin’s lot stays in Sealladh na Mara, where they have freedom.”

  Before Allie could comment on that, the front door swung open and Jake came barreling through.

  “Hiya, Da!” the boy said, and ran straight to Gabe and threw his arms around his waist. “Captain Catesby says you and Allie made lunch for everyone.”

  “Ms. Morgan to you, lad, and aye, we did. Wee Mary was sick today,” Gabe said. “Have you homework, then?”

  “A wee bit,” he said. “Can I do it later?”

  “Nay, boy. You go straightaway to your room and do it now. After, I’ll make you a snack, aye?”

  “Aye,” Jake said grudgingly. He turned to Allie. “Al—I mean, Ms. Morgan, do you wanna throw pebbles in the wharf with me after homework?”

  Allie studied the pair of MacGowans. One big, one little. One with dark hair, the other auburn. Jake had that adorable little cowlick right at the hair line, a few freckles trekking across his nose, and the bluest eyes.

  Eyes completely unlike Gabe’s green ones.

  “Ms. Morgan doesna want to be bothered, lad—”

  “Well,” Allie said, “here’s the deal.” She gave Jake a stern look—probably a lot like the one her mother used to give her. “You get your homework finished, your snack in your belly, and I’ll get busy cleaning up this mess.” She glanced at Gabe. “If it’s all right with your dad, I’ll go throw pebbles with you before we start dinner. How’s that?”

  Jake squirmed where he stood. “Canna, Da?”

  Gabe met Allie’s gaze for a long moment, then nodded. “Aye, I suppose so.”

  Jake took off up the stairs.

  “Dunna hurry through your homework, lad,” Gabe called after him. “I’ll be checkin’ it.”

  “Aye-aye,” said Jake, his voice growing fainter as he raced up the steps and disappeared down the corridor.

  Gabe gave her a direct look. “You dunna have to entertain my son, Ms. Morgan. ’Tisna what I hired you for.”

  Although Allie knew it was meant sternly, she decided the best way to handle Gabe and his grumpy mood swings was to laugh them off. Something greater than anything she’d imagined weighed heavy on Gabe’s mind, and perhaps she’d find out just what that was. Until then, she could only be her usual, chirpy self.

  She threw him a big grin. “You didna hire me to cook and do dishes, either,” she said, mimicking to the best of her ability Gabe’s Highland brogue. “Yet here I am, apron and all, me hair a mess”—she blew a loose strand and it flew skyward—“and potato all over me trousers.”

  And then it happened.

  It nearly knocked her over where she stood.

  Gabe threw back his head and laughed.

  Allie didn’t think a man could look so beautiful.

  Gabe shook his head and scrubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. “You are crazy, woman.” He looked at her and shook his head again. “Bloomin’ crazy.”

  Allie shrugged. “Maybe so. I’ve got a meeting with your lot of spirits tonight, Mr. MacGowan, and I’ll try to see just what’s going on with them and their hauntings. I now have a pebble-throwing date to get ready for, so if you don’t mind, I’ve got to get busy getting this mess picked up.” She lifted an empty tub and started past him.

  With a firm yet gentle grip, he stopped her. She glanced up, his jaw flinched and his eyes bored into hers, and her mouth went dry.

  “Thank you, Ms. Morgan,” he said, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips. “Again.”

  “Absolutely,” she replied, thankful the sound didn’t come out as a squeak. She started for the dining area, and it wasn’t until she was there, and he was in the kitchen, and dishes were clinking together as Gabe placed them in the dishwasher, that Allie took a long, deep, steadying breath.

  What in God’s name was happening to her?

  Somewhere deep inside, so very deep that it wasn’t even a clear and consciously formed thought, she was afraid she knew.

  And she, Allie Morgan, for the first time in quite a long while, was absolutely petrified.

  Allie followed Jake. He’d changed from his school uniform of a white collared shirt and blue trousers to a pair of rough and tumble little boy jeans, a sweatshirt with a Celts logo on the front—a football team, apparently—and a blue jacket with yellow piping. They walked down to the wharf, over the rocks to a small tidal pool. Jake squatted down, scooped up a handful of pebbles, and dumped them into Allie’s hand.

  “Do you have a husband?” Jake asked, tossing a pebble into the water. “Back in America?”

  Allie laughed. “I sure don’t. Why do you ask?” She tossed in a pebble, too.

  Jake shrugged and threw a couple more. “Why are you here all by yourself?”

  Allie studied the boy. The late afternoon light had faded, the air had grown colder, and a gust of wind ruffled Jake’s hair.

  She suspected the little sneak had lured her here to question her about Odin’s Thumb.

  Smiling, she picked a few choice pebbles and skipped them into the water. “I go everywhere by myself. Why?”

  Again, he shrugged. “My mother died.”

  Allie froze. Damn, she had no idea. When Gabe had mentioned he was raising Jake alone, she thought he’d meant that Jake’s mom had simply run out on them. He’d never mentioned being a widower. Leave it to a six-year-old to be brutally honest and spill the beans.

  She took in a breath. “I’m sorry, Jake. How long ago?”

  “I was little. I don’t remember her, really.” He peered up at her. “I have a picture by my bed, though. She’s pretty.”

  Allie smiled and smoothed his cowlick. It sprang back up. “I have no doubt about that.” She wondered how Jake’s mother had died, but she didn’t want to ask. Perhaps after he got to know her a little better, he’d tell her.

  Or perhaps Gabe MacGowan would.

  Glancing up, she studied the cliff to the right of the loch, and could make out a building of sorts on the top. She’d meant to ask someone about it but had forgotten.

  She pointed. “What’s that up there, Jake?”

  He followed her finger. “Och, that’s the old keep.” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “My da says it once belonged to our ancestors.”

  “Can you go up there?” she asked.

  “Aye,” Gabe’s voice sounded from behind them. “But only with someone, right, Jake?”

  “Aye,” the boy agreed. “ ’Tis dangerous up there, you know, with stones falling and such.”

  Allie met Gabe’s gaze. “I see.”

  �
��Can we take her up there, Da? She’s from America and they dunna have castles and such there,” Jake said.

  “Another day, lad,” Gabe said. “Right now Ms. Morgan and I have a dinner to prepare.” He scrubbed his son’s head. “And you have a bath to take, aye?”

  Jake frowned. “Aye, I suppose.” He looked at Allie. “Tomorrow, then?”

  “If your dad says it’s okay,” she answered.

  “Great!” Jake shouted, his r’s rolling like his father’s.

  And with that, he took off.

  “Go straight to your bath, lad!” Gabe yelled after him.

  Jake waved, hollered something that sounded like “aye, aye, aye,” and kept on running.

  Leaving Allie and Gabe alone.

  Allie shifted her gaze to the ruins on the cliff. “So. Your ancestors used to live in a castle, huh?”

  Gabe gave a half grin. “What? And yours didna?”

  Allie laughed. “No. Mine didna.” She turned and looked at him. “Look. I’m sorry about Jake’s mom. I had no idea—”

  He lifted a hand to stop her. “Dunna worry about it. ’Twas before the lad can remember.”

  “What about you?” she asked. “Is that why you can’t sleep?”

  Just that fast, Gabe’s demeanor changed. His jaw tightened, he rubbed his chin, and he glanced out over the loch. The aloofness had returned with gusto. “ ’Tisna your concern, Ms. Morgan.”

  She looked at him. Maybe she’d crossed the line, but sheesh. She just wanted to help. Apparently, though, Jake’s mom was an off-limits topic. Maybe, eventually, he’d open up. Thinking to try and lighten the mood, she gave a slight smile. “My name is Allie, by the way. My mother’s name is Ms. Morgan,” she said, and smiled. “Let’s go get dinner started or we’ll never have it ready in time.”

  With that, she turned on her heel and began to climb from the rocks. Her rubber sole hit a particularly smooth, wet stone and she pitched forward. She turned to try to right herself, and found herself falling backward.

  A dirty word slipped from her mouth.

  Just as she fell into Gabe’s arms.

  Breathless from the adrenaline rush, Allie could do little more than lie there, supported by Gabe as he stared down at her. That jaw still clenched, and those eyes bored into hers, weighing and measuring.

  She could barely breathe.

  “Does your mum know you swear like a man?” he asked.

  Allie blinked.

  A smile started at the corner of Gabe’s mouth.

  “She’s worse than me,” Allie said.

  “I should have guessed.”

  Allie stared up into Gabe’s green eyes.

  She’d known him less than a week.

  He made her heart flutter.

  “Are you ready to go now?” he said.

  “I think so,” she answered. “Yes. I’m definitely ready.”

  “Great,” he said, the r rolling. He continued to stare.

  “Great,” she mimicked.

  Finally, Gabe lifted her upright. Neither said a word as they made their way back to Odin’s Thumb.

  After a few feet, Gabe spoke. “Your brogue needs a bit of work.”

  “Aye,” Allie agreed.

  And for the second time, she heard Gabe MacGowan laugh.

  And as they walked past Leona’s, the Royal Post, and Willy the Fishmonger’s, Allie wondered briefly just how many more times she’d hear that deep, throaty laugh before she had to leave for good.

  More important, how long it would take her to forget it.

  “Are you nearly finished with those?” Allie asked, pointing to the chips sizzling in the deep fryer.

  “Aye,” he answered. “Are you nearly finished with those?” Gabe pointed to the cubed beef she’d been frying on the stove top.

  “Yep.”

  “I daresay they look scrumptious, love,” Dauber said. “Reminds me of my own mother’s cooking.”

  “My mother didn’t have to cook,” said Lord Ramsey. “The servants did all of that.”

  Allie glanced at him while she flipped the meat. “What a little snot you must have been,” she said.

  “Must have been?” said the friar. “Sounds as though he still is.”

  They all laughed.

  “ ’Twas the times, as you know,” Lord Ramsey said with a nod.

  Gabe listened with curiosity. He’d hired the lass to help boot out—or at least force to stay quiet—the quirky lot of spirits who now took each and every opportunity to be around the American.

  Not that he blamed them.

  He’d been invited to the meeting tonight, and he hoped some sort of agreement could be met.

  Not that he’d ever admit it, but he loved the irritating ghosts. They’d been a part of his life his entire life.

  If only things could be different . . .

  “Look you at how young Gabe there is gathering wool,” said Lord Killigrew. “I cannot fathom what consumes his thoughts of late.”

  Gabe frowned at him.

  “Oui,” Mademoiselle Bedeau agreed. “ ’Tis something powerful, no doubt, to give him such a look.”

  Allie looked around. “Where’s Captain Catesby? I haven’t seen him today.”

  “He’ll be back tonight,” the friar said. “He made a short trip up the coast to see an old friend.”

  Allie cocked her head. “So he can just zap back and forth to and from wherever?”

  Lord Killigrew grinned. “We all can. We sort of just . . . think it, and we’re there. You see, we move about in the mortal world, but on our plane of existence.”

  Allie nodded. “That makes sense.” She rubbed her chin. “Can other mortals, outside of Sealladh na Mara, see you?”

  The friar nodded. “At times, aye, for a certainty. It’s been our experience, though, that those who are especially receptive can fully grasp our presence, whether we want them to see us or not.”

  “Aye,” said Lord Ramsey. “And there are those not so receptive who perceive us merely as that certain something that makes one glance over one’s shoulder.”

  “Interesting. So Chester and Millie must have been relatively receptive?”

  The lot laughed.

  “Well,” Allie said, glancing at Gabe and grabbing the platter of water pitchers. “Let’s get this food served and then we’ll both work the bar.” A gleam lit her already gleaming eyes. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

  Gabe watched her push through the kitchen door, only to hear a rousing, cheerful greeting from the patrons in the lobby as she entered.

  How had the lass become such a well-liked fixture at his pub in such a short amount of time? Mayhap ’twas that cheery sort of personality she had. Everyone, spirited or no’, responded to it.

  He glanced up, and all of Odin’s souls, Dauber included but minus Justin Catesby, had ridiculous smiles pasted to their ghostly faces.

  Right then, Gabe knew he was in trouble.

  Deep, deep trouble.

  With that, he began loading the plates.

  He had a feeling this would be a long night, indeed.

  Chapter 10

  Eight thirty, and the last of the dinner plates had been washed. Another successful meal without a problem or complaint. At least now Gabe was not surprised. Allie handled herself just as well with the live folk as she did with the dead ones. They all loved her. For Christ’s sake, Willy MacMillan loved her.

  And the lass could bloody well cook, too.

  Amazing.

  He tossed the dish towel onto the sink, dried his hands on the apron, and slipped it over his head. A few patrons remained in the pub, having a pint or two before heading home for the night.

  Deciding to check on Jake and put him to bed, Gabe left the kitchen, peered into the pub, and then headed up the stairs. Opening the door to his room, he heard voices. Rather, one voice. A feminine one.

  Allie’s.

  Quietly, he slipped closer to Jake’s bedroom and listened at the door.

  “How did y
ou find out your da had died, Allie? Do you remember?” Jake asked.

  Gabe’s insides tightened.

  “Well,” Allie said, “I was about your age, I think. My father worked during the night, so he was gone a good bit of the time, and when he was home, he was sleeping.”

  Silence, so Gabe placed his fingertips on Jake’s door and gave it a slight push. Leaning against the frame, he watched as well as listened.

  Jake scratched his nose. “And so what happened?” he asked.

  A somber expression crossed Allie’s face, and she tried to smooth the cowlick at Jake’s forehead. “My mother got a phone call during the night. My father’d had an accident at work and they’d called to tell her she needed to come right away to the hospital.”

  “Do you remember all of that, then?” Jake asked.

  “No,” she answered. “I was asleep. But I remember my mom waking me and my sisters to tell us Daddy had been in an accident.” She thought a moment. “We had to bundle up and get dressed to go stay with our aunt that night.”

  “Do you remember burying him?” Jake asked. He was getting sleepy, rubbing his eyes and turning sideways in his favorite position.

  “Yes, I do,” Allie answered.

  Jake thought for a moment. “My da has verra bad dreams. I think he’s dreaming of my mother after she was dead. He wakes up screamin’ sometimes, and he leaves and doesna come back for a long while. It scares me.”

  Gabe again froze. He didn’t know if he should interrupt or let his son tell Allie what was obviously bothering him so badly. He chose to wait.

  “Have you told him?” Allie asked Jake.

  Jake shook his head and yawned. “Nay. I dunna want to make him upset.” He looked up at her then, and reached out with his hand and grabbed hers in a tight grip.

  “Can you help him, Allie? Captain Catesby says you have a way with ghostly souls. He says you mend them. Do you think you can mend me da’s soul? Even though he’s alive?”

  The lump that formed in Gabe’s throat was nearly too big to swallow past. He eased away from Jake’s door, not wanting Allie to know he’d overheard the conversation. Once out the door, he pulled it closed and stepped down the corridor. When he heard the door open, he walked toward it again.